New Life, Old Sins
by Eternal-Nevermore
Summary: Humanized Equestria. What would you do to escape a miserable, meaningless existence? Lawrence has the oppurtunity to do just that and go to a new world, but everything comes comes with a price. Will the sacrifice be worth what he gains, or will the deal leave him wishing he had died? Who is the mysterious 'Broker', where did he get his powers, and what is he planning?


**Author's Note: How's it going everyone? I'm going to be writting this story when I hit a snag with my other story. I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this just yet. If you have suggestions or questions feel free to leave a review or PM me. P.S. If you didn't read the summary, it will be a humanized version of Equestria.**

A sharp spike of pain shot out from my chest as I slowly inhaled oxygen from the mask the doctors put on. Breathing was hard today. Well, harder than usual. Another breath and the pain returned with it. And it hurt, too, worse than usual and they hadn't brought me my pain medicine today, though I forgive them, I would find it difficult to walk into my hospital room, too. Bored of looking at the white panels of the drop ceiling I rolled my eyes to the right, to the large window window that ran from the ceiling to the floor and from wall to wall.

Outside the window I could see the thousands of lights that illuminated the city. I could see the headlights of hundreds of cars as they raced down the freeway in the distance. On the sidewalk below I saw a few people bundled up tight in thick coats, gloves and scarfs, as they walked by slowly. I guess it was getting cold outside. I couldn't take my eyes away from the people that looked so small from my window. I couldn't keep myself from wondering what it would be like. What it would feel like. If I could have I'd have shaken my head to clear away the thoughts. Forcing myself to look away from the people I noticed my reflection in the window. What I saw was far from an appealing sight. Staring back at me with dull, lifeless, green eyes was a young man of eighteen with short white hair lying motionless in a hospital bed, covered by several thick blankets, even though he felt neither cold nor hot anymore. Underneath those blankets was a weak, frail body that consisted of little more than bones so flimsy they could break if the doctors and nurses weren't careful and ghostly pale skin that hadn't seen direct sunlight in years.

I guess it was fortunate for the IV that pumped nutrition into me so my face, while far from beautiful, didn't look completely like a zombie. My eyes had sunken back a little into their sockets and my cheeks were slightly sucked in and looked like shallow bowls, at least it was recognizably human. I had never been healthy, confined to the hospital my entire life, but for the past two months it had been a steady decline. First came the pain with my breathing. Not long after it became difficult to move my limbs, and even when I did it felt like the muscles were being set on fire and torn apart. And a few weeks ago I lost the ability to speak. I had always been a mystery and a fascination to the medical world as they had no idea what was wrong with me. I remember hundreds of tests and experimental drugs and procedures that did nothing but scar me and leave me feeling horrible for weeks. Though I haven't had any new drugs or surgeries in the past couple of years.

It became too difficult to look at my reflection so I rolled my eyes to the left. I saw a small table covered with stacks of books. Some were just fictional books for entertainment, the dozens of other books were educational, everything from math to history. Why so many books? When you're confined to a bed your whole life there's not much else to do. Beyond them I saw a pile of drawings and sketches just behind them. Drawing, along with reading and learning, was a passion of mine, the strongest of the three.

It started when I was seven. My father and I were waiting for the results of another test when he started doodling on a piece of paper. I was fascinated and he showed me a few pointers. He had wanted to be an artist when he was younger but it didn't pan out, but he gave me lessons every time he came and visited me, at least once a day. My drawings that started out as squiggly lines gradually transformed into pictures that resembled what I was trying to draw, but I didn't think they were that good. My father and the hospital staff tried to tell me otherwise but I think they were just trying to get my spirits up. A longing to feel a fresh pencil sliding across a clean sheet of paper filled me, but I brushed it aside. I haven't drawn in five years, not since the accident that took my father's life. And I couldn't now even if I wanted to.

I looked behind the piles of books and pictures and I saw the light brown door that sealed me off from the rest of the world. Even the small window had a curtain pulled over it to further isolate me. They said it was to keep people from staring at me, but I knew the real reason. I knew, and I understood. I'd spent my entire life here, most of the nurses and doctors had known me their entire career, and they had to watch as I slowly withered away. I guess it was too much for them to watch. I understood, but I still couldn't forgive them. By sealing me off from the rest of the world they sealed me off from all human contact.

That was the worst. It wasn't being confined to a bed, it wasn't the constant, unbearable pain, it was being completely and utterly alone and the silence that accompanied it. To be completely cut off from all human contact was torture. The feeling of being completely alone hurt worse than any broken bones or knowing every time I closed my eyes to sleep they may never open again. Most of the time it felt like I had just ceased to exist, that the world had forgotten about me. That I no longer matter. When I was young I dreamed of walking, running, jumping. I prayed for the day I could lie down in the soft, green grass and feel the warm sun on my face. Now I just wished for someone to visit me. For someone to spend more than five seconds in my room checking charts and ignoring me like I wasn't even there.

I had tried to numb myself to it, to ignore them like they ignored me, but I couldn't. A part of me refused to grow cold. It craved human contact. It screamed for it. It screamed so loud I could hear it calling through my bones, moving through my veins. It was maddening. Though the screams rang so loud in my head everyone else seemed oblivious and over time it started to die down to a hushed yell. It was always there, but I had learned to ignore it and at least partially achieve the apathy I desired. Most of the time.

My eyes looked back to the ceiling as I suddenly began feeling tired. Strange how lying in a bed all day could do that to you. My eyes slowly slid shut and just before the last of the light was sealed away I couldn't help but wonder; will I wake up tomorrow or is this the last time I close my eyes? Honestly, I don't know which one I prefer. The bittersweet embrace of sleep swept me up in its arms and carried me far from my prison and suffering, offering succor in the form of a death-like state where nothing hurt. Not my body. Not my heart.

"What a miserable excuse for a dream," a soft, quiet voice said. I froze in shock. "What's the point in dreaming if its...this." Where was this voice coming from? "How about I shed a little light on things?" Suddenly there was a sound like someone snapping their fingers and the world erupted into light. My vision went blurry for a few seconds before things cleared up and I saw the familiar ceiling of my hospital room. To my right were the windows, and to my left were my drawings, books, and the door. I was back in my hospital room. My eyes shut and my body began to relax. It was nothing, just a dream. "Not much of an improvement, but I suppose it will do." My eyes darted all over the room, frantically looking from the windows to the door, but I saw no one. Suddenly I heard what sounded like someone clearing their throat, but it was coming from above me. I looked up, and there, a few feet away, was a man sitting on a large golden chair with maroon colored cushions hovering parallel to my own body.

He looked to be in his late thirties with a youthful face, and a bright smile as he looked down at me with bright green eyes. His hair was blonde and neatly trimmed and styled back. He wore a black tuxedo and pants and swished around a glass of what I assumed to be champagne or wine. He flashed a brilliant smile at me as he sat back and took a small sip of his drink. I looked at him with wide eyes as I tried to figure out what was happening.

_It's a dream,_ I told myself. _It's just a dream._ The chuckled softly.

"Indeed, young Master Lawrence," the man said, sounding fairly amused. "I believe I have already noted that this is in fact a dream." He flashed another smile. I only continued to look at him, my shock fading and replaced with confusion. Why was I dreaming about this? I'd never seen this man before and neither have I ever dreamt of another person. "Even though this is just a dream, it's still horrible manners not to greet guests." He motioned to me. "At least you've finally gotten out of bed." I looked down at my body and saw the bed was gone and I was standing. Shock and horror grasped me all at once as I felt my legs give way and I fell onto a soft, crimson rug. "My goodness. Are you alright, Master Lawrence." I looked up and the man was crouched beside me with a look of mild concern on his face. He held out his left hand for me to take.

"W-Who are you?" I asked, surprising myself. I lost my voice days ago, how was I talking?

"Do not push yourself, young sir," the man said kindly as he nodded his head to his outstretched hand. My mind was in a haze as I took it with my left hand and he gently pulled me to my feet. "While this is a dream-scape it still takes its toll on the spirit." He then led me to a table with chairs on either side of it identical to the one he sat in before. All I could think of though, was where had they come from? Screw it, where did any of this come from? Seconds ago I was lying in a hospital bed now I was walking along a red carpet in a room made of stone with randomly appearing tables and chairs and some guy that thought this was all normal! My brain felt like it was going to fry.

"Easy, young sir," the blonde man said, slightly concerned as well as amused. "This is a dreamscape, reality and logic hold no sway over this place. Anything and everything can happen at any given moment, depending on the dreamer's whims." He led me to one of the chairs and I happily sat down in it, not trusting my legs to hold me. I thanked him as I sat down and only then did what happened register in my mind.

_Standing. I was _standing_!_ The thought blew me away. Something that was so trivial to others blew me away. How was it possible?

"Now that we are comfortably settled in, I believe introductions are in order." I looked at the man for a moment, waiting for him to tell me his name, but he simply stared at me and kept his bright smile on his face. What was he waiting for-oh he wanted me to go first.

"Sorry," I said, slightly embarrassed. "My name is Lawrence, Lawrence Nelson." The man's smile widened slightly, seeming pleased about something, but I had no idea what.

"A pleasure, Master Lawrence," he responded. "I am known by the moniker 'The Broker' and I'm afraid that's the only name I have to give you." 'The Broker'? What sort of strange name is that? A broker was someone who dealt in buying and selling things or something like that right? So what did he deal in?

"And what do you 'broker' in exactly?" I asked him. I realised after saying it that I might have sounded rude, but if he was offended he didn't show it. In fact, he seemed slightly more pleased.

"Deals," he said calmly.

"Deals?" What was that supposed to mean?

"Yes. Deals, contracts, agreements. Those sorts of things." That was even more confusing! Just what kinds of 'deals' did he make? My mind swarmed with possibilities. Everything from having better dreams to slavery came to mind, but before I could ask him he spoke again.

"Before we begin talking about buisness let us first eat then get to know one another. Shall we?" I gave him a confused look, before he looked down at the table and when my eyes followed I saw the entire thing had been covered in all kinds of foods, from a stuffed pig on a massive tray to plates of grapes and apples. The spread looked absolutely delicious, and I could feel my mouth beginning to water. How long had it been since I last ate solid food? One month? Two? I couldn't remember. I began to reach for a plate of grapes, but my hand stopped just a few inches shy. I looked to The Broker, unsure, and he gave me a reassuring smile before nodding his head to me and picking up a red apple, taking a small chunk out of it. With his permission I took a small bit of of the green grapes and eating them one at a time. It was love at first bite. The moment my teeth broke the skin of the grape and its juices spilled forth I felt like I ad died and gone to some fruit based heaven. It was hands down the best food I'd ever eaten, and even comparing it to the hospital food or 'nutrients' from the IV would be an insult to end all insults.

"No need to retrain yourself, Master Lawrence," the man said chuckling. "The food is here to be eaten, _I_ certainly won't judge you if you gorge yourself." I gave him one look, pausing, before doing just what he suggested and tore into the spread with abandon. I devoured entire plates of food in moments, bypassing the meats and devouring the fruits. Hell, I even ate a few plates covered in vegetables. The tastes were all amazing and it was with great reluctance I surrendered to a full stomach and relaxed back into the chair, feeling fuller than I had in a very long time. I released a content sigh and looked over to the Broker, who ate calmly and with seemingly perfect table manners. He flashed me a grin and wiped his mouth with a napkin before lying it aside. "Now that we've had out fill, why don't we get to know one another?" I paused for a moment. Why was he so interested in learning about me? The Broker seemed to have noticed my concern as he smirked slightly at me. "I can't help but notice you haven't tried any of the steak or pig. Are they not cooked to your liking?" I felt my heart stop for a moment. Had I offended him by not trying everything?

"M-My father was a vegetarian and I kinda followed his example," I supplied, trying to explain.

"Ah, I see," was the answer. "I apologize for my thoughtlessness in preparing the meal. I hope I haven't offended you." He thought he had offended me?

"No, don't! Thank you for the meal, I haven't eaten anything this good in a long time!" The Broker flashed a small smile.

"Thank you for your kind words." He stopped, a look appearing in his eyes. "Tell me, what do you think of your life?" The question took me off guard and my yes went wide. The Broker took a sip of his wine. "Would you like a glass as well?" He pointed to a spot on the table beside me and when I looked I saw a clear glass with the same red liquid as his glass. "This wine is exquisite. The taste may seem a little strong at first, but I find myself enjoying it more than most others."

"I'm not old enough to drink," I answered, and he chuckled slightly.

"It's wine, Master Lawrence," he chuckled, "and while stronger than most, one won't end up in an embarrassing state after just one glass."

"That's not what I," I started but he cut me off.

"I know full well what you meant," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Centuries ago boys your age were already married and regularly drank brews _far_ more potent. I think you can allow yourself an occasional drink."

"And they only had a life expectancy of about forty," I replied. The Broker smirked and chuckled again.

"Your longer life means you have longer to enjoy the alcohol," he answered. "The key is moderation. So long as you don't get out of control, you can enjoy _this_," he took another sip, "as often as you please." He gave me a look then motioned with his head to the glass beside me. Hesitantly, I picked up the glass and brought it to my lips. A part of me was, strangely, a little afraid. I was too young to drink. More importantly would it effect my health? Would it make me sicker? Another part of me, a stronger part, was thrilled. I was drinking my first alcoholic beverage! I was breaking a taboo! Heck, I was breaking the law! You'd be surprised how few opportunities you have to break rules when you live in a hospital bed. I'm not sure if trying to walk counted as breaking a rule, but it definitely made the hospital staff mad.

I raised the glass to my face and smelled something...fruity. Was wine supposed to smell like fruits? I ignored it and took a small sip. It was good. Better than that, it was amazing! Strangely it tasted exactly like..."It's fruit punch," I said, surprising myself with how disappointed I sounded. The Broker broke out into a small fit of laughter.

"I never said it was wine," he laughed softly. "I merely asked if you would like a glass of something to drink as well." It took me a moment to realise that he had been playing with me. I'd be lying if I said I was a little angry that he'd toyed with me, but I also saw a little of the humor in it. "It seems my small joke has led us astray from my previous question." His words sounded apologetic, but he didn't _feel _sorry. I had been around him long enough I could begin to sense his subtle changes in emotions. I guess you could call it a talent of mine. I first noticed it around the hospital staff. While they smiled and looked pleasant, I could feel how uneasy my presence made them. I could feel their anxiety, how badly they wanted to leave the room, how they pitied me. It was for that reason I suppressed it most of the time. What's worse than having no one who wants to be around you? Having an entire staff of people who dread walking into the same room as you.

"It's not all that bad," I lied. I didn't really have a reason to lie to the man, but I just didn't care for any of that self-pity nonsense, and I didn't want to feel any from him. I felt a little annoyance drift off the Broker.

"No need to spare me the details," he said calmly, taking another sip. "I've known of you for quite a while and so I am well aware of your condition." The way he said 'condition' so casually took me off-guard. When the hospital staff would say it it sounded like they were going to be sick, he said it as if it were no more than an interesting fact. For some reason that didn't make it any better, but I was grateful all the same.

"It is what it is I suppose. There's nothing I can do about it anyway." I saw a slight smile appear on his face as what felt like something close smug humor radiate off of him. But why?

"You're still not answering the question." I felt a small surge of rage beginning to surface in me.

"Why's it so important to you?" I demanded, angry. Impatience leaked forth from The Broker's pleasant mask.

"No need to be so defensive," The Broker said in a humored tone, not betraying his underlying feelings. "I see the subject is sensitive to you. I understand, forgive me for my prying." I felt humor flicker from him. "And I'll forgive you for your prying." My eyes went wide. What did he mean by 'my' prying. He couldn't possibly mean. "I told you I've known you for some time. Your abilities are no secret to me." I was speechless. H-How did he know? I shook my head. "They are but one reason I'm interested in you." I took a drink of the fruit punch to give myself some time to think. "Enough of these distractions. Tell me, honestly, what do you think of your life?" I took a deep breath.

"It sucks," I told him simply.

"Better, but be more descriptive." I felt a little more anger beginning to grow in my chest.

"I hate it," I said venomously. "I hate everything about it."

"Good. Now tell me, how would you like to change that?" I was silent at first, comprehending what he was saying, then burst into a fit of laughter. Had he really just made some subtle hint that he could 'fix' me. I laughed until my side hurt, but it felt nice. It had been so long since I laughed like this, it felt so good. I finally died down from my laughing fit enough to look him in the eye and speak.

"I," I had to stop as another chuckle escaped me. "I believe you when you say this is a dream, I can even accept that the food actually tasted real." I decided to take a play from him and stopped to take a drink of my fruit punch. "What I can't accept is that some man my subconscious made up can do anything to help me in the real world." I felt a wave of humor wash off of him so strong I almost burst out laughing again.

"I understand your skepticism, Master Lawrence," he said calmly, "but you drastically overestimate yourself if you think that you had any part creating me. Dreaming or not." He took a sip of his wine, a look of deep thought on his face. I could almost feel his plotting all the way over here, and something was unsettling about it. "How about this? I will end this dream soon and return you to your life. Only when I do you will feel no pain in your limbs and even be able to walk. Is that satisfying?" I chuckled a little to myself at the absurdity, but I'd be lying if I didn't feel a little spark of hope take root in my chest. I just brushed it aside and ignored it as I began feeling off.

"And what do you get in return?" He smiled at me, not the honest or humored kind of smiles like he'd been giving all night, but a smug almost self satisfied smile.

"I see you haven't forgotten my namesake already." He sounded amused. "Worry not, this isn't a deal so you don't have to worry about terms. This is a...free trial if you will." I gave him a wary look as I thought his offer over. After a moment I failed to see the harm in it. If this was nothing more than a particularly lucid dream, like I thought, than I would wake up with a slightly broken spirit but years of false hope from the doctors rendered me almost immune to that particular pain. But, on the very unlikely, and by that I mean impossible, chance this wasn't some dream my subconscious dreamed up to comfort me in my twilight, I had the chance to live a new life. Seeing I had nothing to lose I nodded my head to the Broker, who's smile widened wickedly. "Splendid, Mater Lawrence!" Suddenly the table and chairs were gone and we were standing mere feet from one another. "I assume you want to see if my word is true right away?" I nodded my head. "Very well, do you have any questions before I return you to the world?"

"If this isn't just some messed up dream and you can do what you say, when will I see you again?" He gave me an enigmatic smirk.

"I prefer to conduct buisness in the privacy of a dreamscape, but for you I will make an exception." Before I could question him further, my eyes shot open and I found myself lying on my back, the sun and sky shining above me. I squinted my eyes at the sudden brightness and rose my left hand to help shield my eyes. It took a moment to realise what just happened. My eyes went wide with shock as I looked at my hand, then the sun glaring into my eyes reminded me why I had it there and once more blocked out the sun.

_It doesn't hurt,_ I thought, stunned. I took in a deep breath and still didn't feel any pain. I laughed in mirth as I used my right hand and pushed myself up into a sitting position. Once I was upright I systematically began checking my limbs, and they all responded properly. My joy soon faded as I noticed what I was wearing. It wasn't a hospital gown, but rather a very nice black tux and I was even wearing some dress shoes. Why was I wearing different clothes? Then I got a good look around me. The sun and sky were overhead but it was like I was looking at it through a tunnel...or a hole. _Why am I in a hole? I thought he said I was going to wake up? _Certain things were starting to make connections as I looked around me and saw I was in some kind of box with a cushioned bottom. For some reason the answer seemed so obvious but my mind just couldn't grasp it. Hesitantly I pushed myself up and got my legs under me. I took a deep breath as I sat on my knees, preparing for the next step.

At a pace so slow it was almost painful I began to push myself up to my feet. It was slow going but I managed to get to my feet under me and rose to my full height, my legs wobbling, but they still supported me. Although I still kept my hands on the dirt walls to ensure my balance. I was overcome by a sense of joy and surprise I started laughing to myself. I couldn't believe it, I was standing! I was finally _standing_! My laugh grew louder as I grew bolder with my standing. I did a small hop, my fee barely leaving the padded bottom of the box. Feeling confident in myself I brought my hands off the confines of the hole and threw my head back so I could look up into the sky.

_I did it, Dad, I really did it!_ Tears started to swell in my eyes as my laughs began to get stuck in my throat. _I just wish you were here to see it_. My joy poured out of me and left me feeling empty, but I snapped myself out of it, now calm and focused, but it still hurt a little. I shook my head to get refocused. I had to figure out a way out of here.

"Are you awake yet?" a light hearted voice asked from above me. I looked up and saw an outline standing over the top of the hole. I looked at him for a moment, when I felt a sensation of joy coming off the figure, but it felt familiar. "Lawrence, you look dashing in your new attire, much better than those hospital rags."

"Broker?" I asked the figure. A chuckle answered.

"Indeed," came the reply. "How about we get you out of there?"

"Sounds good to me," I answered. I reached my hand up to him, but he paused.

"This won't do at all," the Broker said. I gave him a confused look. "Those clothes are far to nice to ruin with dirt, just a moment. He disappeared from the top of the hole and suddenly a wide blue cloth rolled over the edge and down to me. "There we are. _Now_ lets get you back up here where you belong." He reappeared and reached down into the hole. I took his hand and went to try and climb, but the Broker seemed to be fairly strong as he easily lifted me off the ground and up to the entrance of the hole. As bright as the sun was in the hole, outside of the hole it seemed bright enough to blind me. "Give it time," the Broker said as he helped me to my feet. "Your eyes will adjust soon." As I got to my feet I felt my body leaning to one side as if the ground were tilted slightly, so we must have been on a hill or something.

"I thought you said I'd wake up?" I asked him, adjusting my footing so I wasn't leaning anymore. I felt his emotions go cold and closed off.

"You are awake," he said in a calm, but somewhat hesitant manner. "Here, sit." With my eyes still getting used to direct sunlight the Broker ushered me a few feet to my right and I felt something that felt like a stone. II sat down on it and my eye sight finally started to improve, but the Broker's demeanor started to worry me. I looked up at him and saw he looked exactly like he had in the dream, only his face was a blank and cold as a stone, a hard, serious look in his eyes.

"If this isn't a dream, where are we? Why aren't we at the hospital?" The Broker put a hand on my shoulder as he crouched down to be eye level with me.

"Lawrence," his voice had softened a degree but still carried the serious tone, "I'm going to tell you something but I need you to remain calm." Now I started to worry.

"Where are we?" I asked again, snapping my head around to get a look. The Broker raised a hand to forcibly make me look at him, but not before I caught a brief glimpse of my surroundings. One of the first things I noticed was we were indeed on a hill, but what stole my attention was the dozens of lines of stones placed every few feet. It was that moment everything made the connection. "This...this is a-a."

"A cemetery, yes," was the answer. The words hit me like a blow to the stomach. I felt my body go cold as my heart started racing.

_This is a cemetery, then that hole_, my body began shaking slightly. It hadn't been a hole, it was a grave, and the box was a coffin. _I died? I'm dead? If I'm dead, how am I sitting here?_ Then it struck me. I wasn't sitting on some stone. I went to jump to my feet to see if my suspicions were right, but the Broker stopped me.

"Lawrence," he said in a calming, kind voice and his emotions shifting to concern and a little worry, "I know a lot is going through your mind right now, but you need to take a moment to collect yourself."

"I'm dead!" I shouted, incredulous. "How can I calm down when I just crawled out of my own grave?" My mind was going insane with the amount of thoughts running through it and the reality of everything began to set in. The whole time the Broker sat there, doing his best to keep me upright and reassure me with his presence. It became too difficult to think about, so I tried my best to push it to the back of my mind, just like what I did to my emotions. It can't hurt me if I don't think about it. We sat there for a few moments in silence as my breathing and heartbeat began to return to normal. Even with everything going back to normal I still couldn't bring myself to break the silence, so the Broker did it for me.

"You're not dead," he told me, trying his damnedest to keep me calm. "At least not yet."

"Wh-What do you mean?" He took a deep breath.

"Let's just say I put a claim on you to keep Death from taking you."

"A claim?" He nodded his head.

"I have a small amount of pull in the world," he said with a slight smile. "My claim on you remains until we settle the buisness between us."

"What good is making a deal if I'm just going to die?" The Broker remained calm.

"Because I can keep death a bay indefinitely if I so wish. It could become one of the terms of our deal?"

"And what are you going to get out of this deal exactly?" The Broker's expression went a little cold.

"I will tell you in due time, should you stop interrupting me after every sentence." He was right, I was still frustrated and confused and I just wanted answers.

"Sorry," I said softly.

"It's quite alright, Lawrence. You have a lot to take in right now. I'm just trying to explain things to you in a manner that makes sense." What he meant was 'in a way that keeps your from freaking out'. With everything that just happened, I doubt there was much else that could freak me out.

"Just one last question?" I asked him. He nodded his head. "How do I know this isn't a dream?" He was silent for a moment.

"I suppose that's a reasonable question," he said finally. He reached behind himself and when his hand came back around it was holding a long black dagger. I jumped a little at the sudden appearance of the weapon, but the Broker calmly flipped it in his hand so he was holding the blade and the handle was pointed towards me. I hesitantly reached my left hand out and touched it. The moment my skin touched it I felt a cold chill shoot through my body and I snapped my hand back to me. I held it in my left hand and cradled it to my chest. Even though it was no longer touching the knife my hand still felt like it was touching ice. I brought it away to look at my chest, but it looked fine. J felt a small wave of humor come off of the Broker. I glared at him for a moment before he motioned with the knife again. Hesitantly I reached for the knife again and didn't pull back when the cold hit my hand. I took it with a firm grip and the Broker released the blade. I brought it over to me, the chill from the blade slowly fading, then I gave the Broker a questioning look.

"What do I do now?" I asked.

"You aren't supposed to feel pain in a dream," he answered almost smugly. "IF the chill you got from the knife wasn't enough then go ahead and cut your palm." My eyes went wide for a second at the suggestion, then looked back down at the knife. Grabbing the knife had hurt me a little, so maybe that was enough. No, I had to be sure. I put the edge of the knife against my right palm, and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes and cut. A chill worse than grabbing the knife shot through my palm and was then replaced by a burning sensation as I cried out in pain, dropping the dagger and clenching my hand to my chest. The Broker was there in an instant, forcefully pulling my hand away from my chest and taking it in both of his. "Calm down, Lawence, you'll be fine." His tone sounded stern, yet gentle and comforting, almost fatherly. I kept opened my eyes to look at my hand and saw it gently cupped between his. Suddenly his hands began to glow with a soft, green light and the pain in my hand began to lessen, then disappear completely. When he released it I looked at it and not even a scar remained. I stared at it in amazement, then looked to the Broker who wore a soft smile, then back to my hand. I repeated the process a few time before he put a hand on my shoulder. "I kept death from taking your soul, I shouldn't think that healing a small cut would be that impressive."

_A _small _cut?_ I asked myself. _I think I almost cut to the bone!_

"What's more important right now is that you've ruined your suit!" he exclaimed, his carefree smile returning and joy began radiating from him once more. I looked down at my chest and saw he was right. Blood was smeared all over my chest from the self inflicted wound, small cut my ass, but the black suit hid most of it. "Do you even know how hard it is going to be for you to get those stains out?" He chuckled softly and I looked back up at him.

"What are you?" I asked. His smile turned into a devilish grin.

"I told you, I'm The Broker." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Not who, what." From what I could sense from him, I was very amusing to him.

"Someone who can do things you'd never believe possible, and wants to make a deal with you."

"Why me?" It was the only question I could come up with. I mean if he was as all power as I believed he was right at this moment, then why would he want to make a deal with someone as useless as myself?

"You, young sir, have something no one else in this world does."

"What, being able to sense others' emotions?" He shook his head.

"No, there are a scarce few others in this world who can do that as well, but it is a nice consolation prize for me." I gave him another confused look. "Actually there are two things about you that sets you apart from the rest of the world." He stopped there, giving me another smirk.

"And those are?" I asked, getting impatient.

"Innocence and ignorance." I gave him a deadpan look. Did I hear him right?

"I'm not stupid, and I'm not what I'd call innocent." The Broker burst into a small laughing fit.

"No, Lawrence, you are far from stupid. I meant ignorant in means of society and the world. I know you were well taught and would be considered exceptionally smart, but when it comes to surviving in the world and interacting with other people you are utterly clueless." I had to give it to him there, as much as I didn't like it. I didn't know a thing about the modern world and I when it came to other humans the only people I saw were the hospital staff and I gave up on connecting with them long ago. "As for innocence, you are almost completely free of any corruption the world could have inflicted upon you. Even with your less than sterling treatment by the hospital staff you aren't as jaded as you believe." I definitely didn't like his thoughts about me there. Who the hell is he to think he knows me so intimately? I began looking for flaws in his idea of me being a perfect choice, and I thought I had one.

"From your description of why I'm the perfect candidate, most young kids would do just as well." I smiled smugly, thinking I had gotten the better of him, but his smile didn't waver for a second.

"Then I suppose there's a third reason you make the 'perfect candidate'." I glared at him in frustration.

"Just how many reason do you have?"

"As many as I need to convince you that you are uniquely suited to what I need." I sighed in defeat and shook my head.

"Fine, what's the third reason?" I expected his light hearted tone, but he turned more serious, his emotions reflecting it.

"You have nothing tying you to this world." My eyes went wide with shock. "You have no connections, no family or friends. You have absolutely nothing tying you to this world that would make you want to return." I looked down and away from him. As angry as his words made me, they hurt much worse as they were true. My father had been the only real thing I had in this world and he has been dead for five years now. A dark, cold feeling began to wash over me as I thought about him, but I quickly shook it off. I couldn't succumb to those emotions, not now, not again. In my haste to lose those dark feelings, something the Broker said stuck out to me.

"Return?" I asked, confused. The Broker nodded his head.

"Should you accept my offer, you will be taken to a completely different world then the one we occupy at this moment. And once you're there, even should you break our contract, you can never return to this world. That's why it's a good thing you have no strings tying you to this place." I scoffed.

"Yeah, I guess that's lucky for you." A dark morbid thought came to mind. "Did me dying do you any favors? I mean, it's a hell of an incentive to accept whatever offer you make and to not break it." A flash of anger radiated from the Broker for a brief moment then it was like he completely shut himself off from me.

"I am sorry," he said, his voice calm and controlled. "I was not aware your affliction had progressed so far. I intended to come to you before this. I am truly sorry." My cynicism and glare disappeared in an instant and was replaced by shame.

"No, I'm sorry," I told him. "I shouldn't have said that, it wasn't fair of me."

"Your apology is accepted and appreciated."

"So what else does this deal involve?" The Broker was quit for a moment. "I don't care, I mean, the alternative is death right?" He gave me a serious look.

"Sometimes dying is easier than living." I shook my head.

"Fine, let's just get on with it." I'm not sure if my impatience was due to being tired and confused or just reckless youth, but I just wanted to get this over with. The Broker gave me a hard look.

"Very well, but before we do, is there anything in this world you want to see? Anywhere you want to go? This will be your last chance." I was about to tell him no, then something came to mind. If this was my grave, then maybe. I rose from my seat on my headstone and started examining the headstones on either side of it. "What are you doing?" I ignored him and kept searching, stopping and kneeling in front of the grave that was to the left of mine. I read the name and it said Lawrence Michael Nelson Sr. "I don't think your name's matching is a coincidence."

"This is my father's grave," I told him, suddenly feeling numb. Being here felt almost strange. On the one side I was happy I was here to see his final resting place. It gave me the feeling of being close to him again, that he was here with me again. I ran my left hand along the letters of his name as the other side of my dueling emotions surged with new life as tears began to fall from my eyes. I felt angry, furious. How could he leave me like that? How could just die and leave me here alone? I was so enraged I wanted to dig him out just so I could shake his lifeless body and scream at him. Then the feelings of pain and sadness overtook the rage and I openly began weeping. I remembered the day the doctors told me he had died, the shock and numbness at first, then the nonstop crying with no one there to comfort me. All that pain I had to deal with by myself at thirteen. The conflict of emotions in me waged back and forth with no one keeping control for long so I sat there on my knees with tears rolling down my face in silence, staring at my father's name until The Broker came and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Are you alright, Lawrence?" he asked, concerned. I kept facing forward but nodded me head.

"I didn't even get to go to his funeral," I told him, my voice soft and breaking. We stayed there in silence for a few moments longer until The Broker spoke again.

"I'm sorry Lawrence, but we must go now," he said, his voice now serious, but not cruel. With a deep breath and a strong will I suppressed the conflict in my heart and pushed it to the furthest reaches of my mind before nodding my head and rising to my feet. The Broker gave me a soft smirk before adjusting my outfit a little and brushing some dust off my chest, the blood stains disappearing with it as well. "There, good as new." He turned and started to walk away. "Before we can finalize the deal we must discus the details in detail so you know exactly what it is you are getting into." I said nothing as I stepped into line behind him. After a moment he stopped and looked back at me. "In all seriousness, Master Lawrence, the terms of this deal will not be fair. For no matter how much I give you, you will be sacrificing much more. Should you accept the terms I am about to give you, you will be bound to them for life. Violating the terms of the deal result in immeadiate nullification of the deal. And in your case."

"I drop dead," I said simply, my nerves to shot to give much of a reaction. He nodded his head. A question came to my mind. "What are you going to get out of this?" He gave me a smirk.

"You don't get to ask that just yet." He was quiet for a moment. "Are you sure you wish to continue?" I nodded my head.

"It's not like I have any left to lose." He nodded his head and snapped his fingers. Suddenly the air started to...shimmer, for lack of a better word. It ws like the air was visibly vibratting in the air with a soft, dark light. Suddenly a red sports car appearing on the pved path right beside him. "Let us go somewhere more appropriate where we can talk buisness in comfort." I stared at him in awe for a moment. Just what the hell was he? For a moment I was afraid. Did I really want to make a deal with this...man? He could hold death at bay, heal wounds, and make multimillion dollar cars appear out of thin air. Did I really want to do this? I shook my head and threw the doubt aside. Yes, I did want this. I spent the whole eighteen years of my life trapped in a bed where I died. Now I have a chance to live a new life, free to do whatever I want. I wasn't going to let this oppurtunity pass me by. I went to the passenger side of the car and got in. The Broker took his seat and started the car, a loud purr coming from the engine. "For what it's worth, Master Lawrence, I think you made the right call." I smirked at him.

"Me too."


End file.
